Heir of Slytherin
by Grasshopper-chan
Summary: Warning: mild slash! Harry goes back to the time of the Founders of Hogwarts and gets to know the REAL Salazar Slytherin, and he's like not the one in the history books! Rating just to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or its characters. I am merely using them to entertain myself because I am bored and don't feel like doing my massive amounts of compiling homework.**

**Warnings: Mild slash (male/male: Salazar Slytherin/Harry Potter), OOCness (it's fanfiction, if you want In Character stuff, read the books), spoilers through OotP, etc.**

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Harry groaned and slowly cracked open an eye. Why was his head pounding so hard? 

"Ah, he's awake," a deep silky voice murmured. Harry's eyes flew open and he immediately reached for his wand, only to find it wasn't there.

"Where's my—" Harry glared at the man standing regally in front of him holding up Harry's wand and pointing it at its owner threateningly. _'This is definitely not the wand I planned to die by.'_

"Don't even consider fleeing," the man warned in his velvety voice. Harry fought a blush at the sound if it. It was very sexy, despite it's threatening undertone. Looking up at the owner of the voice, Harry found that the man also had beautiful eyes—a piercing pair of dark green, almost black orbs that carefully sealed away the soul behind them. The man was attired entirely in black and his robes hid a strong but slender figure. The man's tone, posture, dress, and overall air suggested nothing less than majesty. This was definitely someone of noble descent, a powerful pureblood who wasn't afraid to shamelessly flaunt it. Then again, what pureblood didn't go overboard with appearance and pretense?

Finally regaining his wits, Harry calmly stated, "I'm not going to run away. I'm not a coward and I haven't done anything wrong." Harry's eyes grew almost completely black with suppressed anger for a brief moment before they returned to their normal shade of green. "Perhaps a less threatening approach would have been better. Let's start over. My name is Harry Potter. Nice to meet you, mister…" he trailed off inquiringly. The man eyed him warily before relaxing his posture slightly, yet was still careful to keep his guard up.

"Salazar Slytherin," he replied coldly. Harry started. Salazar Slytherin? Impossible! The guy died a millennium ago!

"I-I…see…" the teen mumbled lamely. He looked at the man timidly. "A-Are you sure that's really your name? Were you perchance named after someone else?"

The Founder glared at him icily. "I assure you, Mr. Potter, that I am the _only_ Salazar Slytherin," he retorted. Harry blinked several times, feeling his mind haze over. He collapsed, falling forward into Salazar's strong arms. The last thought before he lost consciousness was, _'For a bizarre nightmare, this feel's pretty real…'_

When he came to, it was to a different, much less soothing voice. "Wake up already! God, how long are you gonna sleep?" the unpleasant voice exclaimed loudly. It soon grew into an impatient and irritable mumble, "Damn that Salazar Slytherin…getting me to baby-sit his stupid prisoner on my day off…then again, I feel bad for the poor boy…"

Harry's sleep-clouded mind registered that he groaned at the complaining tone that his friends often took when talking to each other, especially about professors and homework. "Keep it down, Ron, the spiders are gone now," he mumbled into his pillow before truly registering what had been said. He opened his eyes and stared at the man, who looked ready to explode with misdirected rage. "Umm…hi?" Harry squeaked out and laughed nervously at the murderous glint in the man's eyes. Suddenly, Salazar's cold scowl was sounding pretty good…

"Oi, Slytherin, the brat's awake, can I go now!" the man shouted on the top of his lungs. Then again, Slytherin and this guy together in the same room as him wasn't as appealing as one might think. Especially if they were both as livid as the one next to him sounded…

Harry buried his head under the pillows moodily. "Why me?" he groaned.

"My sentiments exactly!" the loud man agreed.

Just then, Salazar entered and shoved the other man aside. "Ignore Godric. He's an incompetent fool."

"Am not!"

"Yes, you are. You were stupid enough to sign a document that states that you are exactly that," Salazar shot back. Harry watched in amusement and tried to stifle his laughter. Salazar smirked at the betrayed look on Godric's face.

"Hey, kid, you were supposed to side with me!" Godric whined. "Traitor!"

"Who would be that foolish? Only you and your House," Salazar teased.

Harry blushed in embarrassment and murmured, "I would."

Salazar turned to Godric and said incredulously, "Is this one of your students?" as if Harry seemed too intelligent to be taught by Godric.

"No, I've never seen him before in my life, I swear!"

Salazar looked doubtful and Godric glared demandingly at Harry.

Harry flushed at the attention he was suddenly receiving. "Well, I'm not technically…not yet, anyways…"

A long story later found the two founders staring at Harry in shock from the gruesome tale they'd just been told (though they had no idea Harry had only given them a brief and softened version of his life story). The poor kid…to suffer so much at such a young age must have been…incredibly horrific, to say the least.

"But how did you get here?" Godric said.

Harry frowned. "I dunno. I can't remember. I think there was a battle or something…" He focused hard on the void in his memories before sighing in defeat and shaking his head sadly. "I'm sorry. I can't remember anything that would help explain my presence here."

Suddenly, Salazar stood and hovered regally over Harry. "Well, Mister Potter, I believe you've been interrogated more than enough for one day."

"Welcome aboard, kiddo," Godric translated for his fellow Founder, who had stalked out of the room haughtily. Godric grinned toothily at his new pupil. "Don't mind him. He means well. Actually, I think he's taken quite a liking to you."

"He sure has a strange way of showing it," Harry said with a snort. The older wizard laughed hoarsely.

"He's just a social ogre. Never been in a pleasant mood in his life, I'd wager."

Harry smiled. "I know," the boy murmured, blushing lightly. "Neither is Professor Snape. He's protected me more than anyone else—he's saved me at least once each year."

"But I thought—"

"Don't misunderstand. We hate each other, but I have a deep respect for the man. He's a brilliant Potions Master and a very clever person with some notable redeeming qualities."

"But his personality?" Godric inquired.

"Let's not go there. I'm sure you have plans for something in the next month, that's how long I could go on about his faults."

Godric winced sympathetically. "That bad huh? Sorry."

Harry just shrugged indifferently. "What about Slytherin?"

"What about him?" Godric asked confusedly.

"What's he like? Not like Snape, I hope."

Godric sighed heavily and stood. He put a hand on Harry shoulder and gave it a friendly squeeze. "I don't know. No one does. Maybe you can be the one to find out and let the rest of the world know."

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**A/n: Well, this is a very experimental fic I've started just for fun. I posted it because I felt a little guilty about not updating my stuff for so long...yeah, it's definately been a while. In the past, I have read some slash but never written it, and even now that I am giving it a try it will probably be almost nonexistent (this fic, when I first started it, wasn't really intended to be slash). So, yeah, let's see how this goes...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or its characters. I am merely using them to entertain myself because I am bored and don't feel like doing my massive amounts of compiling homework.**

**Warnings: Mild slash (Salazar Slytherin/Harry Potter), OOCness (it's fanfiction, if you want In Character stuff, read the books), spoilers through OotP, etc.**

**A/n: This chapter is out relatively fast for me. This is because this one and the one after it are prewritten. After these two are posted, updates will probably be much slower. However, I will do my best--I won't abandon this fic no matter what. Thank you very much to my reviewers! I enjoyed hearing your comments!**

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Salazar was in the middle of a lecture when Godric stormed into the classroom in something akin to a blind panic.

"He's gone, Salazar, gone!" he cried, his voice laced with worry to the point of hysteria.

Salazar raised an eyebrow. "Who'se gone?" he said coolly.

"_Harry!_" Godric shouted in exasperation.

"I think, perhaps, you are overreacting, fool," Salazar said in a condescending voice. "He isn't meant to be here in the first place."

Godric fumed. The icy, superior face was getting to him. "He's not _gone_, just _missing_! There's a _difference_!"

"So? He's your pupil, not mine—thank heavens."

"**_Salazar Slytherin!_**" the Founder bellowed, trying to be intimidating like his peer. Of course, he did not receive his desired reaction.

"Get out of my classroom, Godric. You're disturbing both myself and my students," Salazar remarked irritably.

Godric pouted. "Not until you help me find him." Salazar sighed and relented, knowing that Godric would cling to him and complain until he helped. In truth, the fact that the boy was missing disturbed him more than he cared to admit.

"Reeves, please take these students to Gryffindor classroom and maintain order. I will severely punish misbehavior. Do not leave that room." The students quickly shuffled about to comply with their instructor's commands.

"Isn't that a bit much?" Godric asked. "Lighten up."

Salazar glared. "First of all, do not tell me how to deal with my students. Secondly, Mister Potter has been following you around like a second shadow since his arrival. If he is missing, there may be a threat to the other students."

"Should we warn Helga and Rowena?"

"No. They must remain with their students. If they find out, they may wish to help."

As the two wizards searched opposite sides of the campus, Salazar felt a surge of power from the Third Floor. He quickly ascended the steps and walked down the corridor and froze when he reached the end. This was the location of the Room of Requirements!

He paced back and forth several times, focusing his thoughts on Harry, which admittedly was no difficult task for the Founder, as he seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Eventually, the door appeared and Salazar almost ripped it off its hinges.

Harry jumped at the intrusion but smiled when he saw who it was. Salazar slammed the heavy door and spelled it shut until he declared otherwise. He then moved so that he was inches away from the boy and towering over him darkly.

"Hullo. Fine weather we're having," Harry said with a childish grin, not the least bit intimidated.

"Your disappearing act has sent the school into an uproar. Godric and I were convinced that you'd been kidnapped by spies who had somehow managed to infiltrate the premises."

Harry blinked owlishly. "Why'd you think that? I just wanted some time to myself and I happened upon this cozy little room here."

Salazar sighed. "The Room of Requirements," he explained, taking a seat next to the boy. "It provides whatever you want."

"I noticed," Harry chirped, holding up a small antique mirror. Salazar raised an eyebrow inquiringly. "I wanted something that would show me what's going on in my time. You know, family, friends, insane Dark Lords after my life…the works. I figured I should update my knowledge of 'current' events."

"And what have you discovered in your time?" Salazar asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Voldemort is on the rise. He's preparing to attack the school. Werewolves sided with the Light—compliments of Remus, no doubt."

"Remus?"

"My last living family member."

Salazar blanched. "You're related to a werewolf!"

"Not by blood, but we are very close. He's my friend and legal guardian, if you discount my Muggle relatives—and yes, I have Muggle family, as much as I hate to admit it. My mother was a Muggleborn. I'm half." When Salazar didn't reply, Harry smiled sadly. "You must think I'm disgusting."

"Not at all. Godric is the one who is finicky about purity of _blood_. I am more concerned with _power_." He glanced at the boy, who was clearly shocked by the new piece of information. "Is it really so surprising?"

"I had no idea…my classmates always made it seem the other way around…and in history class, too, they always…" He quickly changed the subject. "My friend Hermione is a Muggleborn, but she's one of the cleverest girls I've ever met. There's not a spell she can't master—as far as I know—and she could beat any of the purebloods in our year with her eyes closed. She spends all her free time in the library. She's obsessed with studying because she wants to further her understanding of magic."

"Rowena would be pleased," Salazar muttered in response to the last part.

Harry made a noise of agreement. "Yes, they are very much alike."

There was a tense pause. "And you? Who do you associate yourself with?" Harry looked up at Salazar, his green eyes boring into the Founder's own. Then, he blushed and looked away, all the while mentally berating himself for doing so.

"I'd always seen myself as a Gryffindor through and through, but now…" he trailed off, shaking his head.

"Now?" Salazar prompted.

Harry looked up again. "Did you know that the Sorting Hat didn't want to put me in Gryffindor? 'You would do well in Slytherin,' it told me. Now, I am rather inclined to agree with it."

"You _would_ do well in my House," Salazar remarked with an air of indifference.

"I wish I had chosen differently," the young wizard confessed softly, just realizing it himself. "Your House is so unlike his."

"If you wanted to switch, why didn't you request a re-sorting?"

Harry stared blankly. "You can do that?"

"Yes. Well, you can in this time, but I'm sure the proceedings haven't changed much and, considering what you've told me, I think your headmaster would make as exception for his favorite pupil."

"I hate using favoritism to get my way—almost as much as I hate using my fame to get out of trouble."

"I am certain that is merely a trait you've acquired since you were sorted into the _Golden House_." The last two words were spoken with great sarcasm and disdain. "I am also certain that you could easily pull it off. Your conscience should not feel guilty for trying to do what's best for you."

"But I'm hated by the entire House! Every Slytherin I know has either tried to get me expelled or kill me because I am destined to battle their master!" Harry exclaimed.

"I've never tried to kill you," Salazar said softly.

"No, but you did regard me as a threat without giving me a chance to—"

Salazar cut him off, "Can you blame me? It is my duty to protect my students. You could have been a spy, an assassin, or even a madman like the Dark Lord in your time."

Harry sighed. "No, I suppose you're right. I'd have done the same thing," he admitted. He was looking at the floor, so he missed the small smile that quickly appeared on Salazar's face. It was gone almost as instantly as it appeared, though, hidden behind cold green eyes.

"Perhaps the students do not hate you half as much as you think they do."

"They attack and harass me nonstop!" Harry objected fervently.

"They are expected to. It could cause them trouble at home, I'm sure, if they treated the _enemy_ with civility." Harry considered this and at length nodded in agreement. It made sense.

The two wizards sat in silence for a long time. Harry eventually pulled out a blank piece of parchment and whispered, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." The Marauders Map appeared in its full glory. Harry immediately located Godric Gryffindor, which was not a difficult task seeing as the man's name was going around in circles like a chicken with its head cut off. Salazar's name was directly next to his own.

"What is that?" the Founder inquired.

"My father and his friends made the Marauders Map when they were in Hogwarts. It eventually worked its way into my hands, but I got it taken away by my professor. I decided to get a new one from this room."

"So you already knew about the Room of Requirements," Salazar said. "How? No one should know of it."

"I stumbled across it while looking for a place to…study…with my friends—we were actually looking for a place to hold meetings for a club that was recently banned by the school. It was pure chance that I found this place." He paused and looked at the Founder. "Why does it matter?"

"I created this place as a personal sanctuary. It was my secret," the older wizard explained, his displeasure evident in his tone.

"You created this room?" Harry asked in astonishment. "You must have used some very complicated spells!"

Salazar let out a soft chuckle. "No spells were involved in the creation of this room. It was built on pure magic, an art that seems to be lost to future generations. Pure magic is simply the ability of a witch or wizard to wield the source of his or her power without the use of a wand or spells. The wizard's desire to make something happen controls the magic."

"So the Room of Requirements was built by your desire to create it and by your magic's inborn response to that wish," Harry said.

Salazar nodded. "That's exactly right."

Harry hesitated before asking, "Is the same true of the Chamber of Secrets?"

Salazar's eyes widened fractionally. "How did you—"

"Remember how I mentioned a diary of the Dark Lord's old self trying to kill me?" Salazar nodded slowly. "Well, Tom Marvolo Riddle stumbled across the Chamber of Secrets in his years at Hogwarts. He apparently found out somewhere that he has your blood and he became obsessed with finishing _Salazar_ _Slytherin's 'noble work'_. He wanted to unleash the beast that was waiting in the Chamber to rid the school of all things 'mudblood' or Muggle, meaning the extermination of all Muggleborns at Hogwarts." Salazar waited for him to continue. "In order to save my friend, Ginny, who as you know had been possessed by the diary, I had to follow him down to the chamber and slay the Basilisk he told to kill me. Of course, I didn't defeat your precious little serpent on my own; I had help from the headmaster's phoenix and Godric Gryffindor's sword."

"There is no such serpent in the Chamber of Secrets," Salazar informed him stiffly. "And why is it you were able to enter the Chamber? Only a Parselmouth can open the passageway."

Harry motioned to his scar. "A _present_ from the night the Killing Curse failed to destroy me. Everyone thought I was the next evil overlord as a result of the wonderful ability to talk to snakes." He smirked ironically. "Although it's rather handy in getting rid of unwanted company."

"I see…" Salazar looked at him darkly. _"**Then you can understand what I am saying right now?**" _

"I can _understand_ it all the time, but I can only _speak_ it when I see a snake," Harry explained.

Salazar raised an eyebrow. "Harry, that is a skill that one must develop. It does not come naturally. If you practice, you will be able to speak Parseltongue anytime with as little effort as it takes to speak a human tongue."

"Teach me," Harry insisted. Salazar raised a delicate eyebrow. "I've never met anyone else who might be able to in my own time…you're the only one…Please?"

"As a professor, I cannot refuse to instruct a student. I suppose I am now obligated to instruct you." Harry smiled when he heard that. He knew that was Salazar's way of saying it would be his pleasure to do so. Salazar ignored the grin on the boy's face and rose to his feet. "I believe we've given Godric quite enough of a scare for one day, and I am sure he is still as frantic as ever. As entertaining as it would be to leave him like that all night, it is almost time for dinner and we must not be late."

Harry stood as well, glancing at the Marauders Map and saying, "You're right. His name is still running around in circles in the same spot as before." Salazar shook his head in disdain and escorted the wayward student back to his rightful teacher, who fell down dizzy when he saw Harry standing a few feet away watching him in obvious amusement.

In spite of being harshly reprimanded by a very irate professor, Harry was pleased with recent events. Not only had he gotten some time alone, but he'd also been able to speak with Salazar Slytherin rather openly. Harry found that he liked the reserved Founder. Salazar was definitely a Slytherin, but beneath the pretenses and façades he was very considerate and gentle; perhaps so considerate that the man thought too deeply into respecting the wishes of others that he often ended up hurting those around him because of a misunderstanding. Yes, Harry was certain that Salazar Slytherin was very misunderstood. And he intended to fix that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or its characters. I am merely using them to entertain myself because I am bored and don't feel like doing my massive amounts of compiling homework. **

**Warnings: Mild slash (Salazar Slytherin/Harry Potter), OOCness (it's fanfiction, if you want In Character stuff, read the books), spoilers through OotP, etc.**

**A/n: Sorry this took so long to get up. I was hit pretty bad by Hurricane Wilma—no power at all for the entire week and no water for four days. It was pretty bad, but right now I am at a place that has power, so I decided to post this chapter since it's all typed up already. Please enjoy!**

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"…five signs by which to identify a werewolf?" Harry caught as his mind returned to the realm of consciousness. He slowly registered the question being directed at him and blinked several times as the question triggered a memory he'd seen in Snape's Pensieve in his fifth year, which began with the Marauders' answers to the same problem on their exams.

"' …Three, his name is Remus Lupin…'" he mumbled to himself, his voice strained with emotion. He really missed Remus and the others right now. Just thinking of them made tears well up in his eyes. Would he ever—

"Harry Potter!" Godric shouted in irritation. "Please pay attention and answer the question!"

Harry bowed his head in apology, even though he wasn't really sorry. "Sorry, professor."

"Well?" Godric waved off the apology. "What are the five signs by which to identify a werewolf?"

Harry paled as an imaged flashed in his mind of Remus' body mangled and bloody on the ground at the feet of none other than Wormtail, who was shrieking with insane laughter. "I-I do not want to answer that, Sir. May I leave?"

Godric frowned at Harry's response. "Not until you can give me the identifying characteristics of a werewolf, Harry."

Harry glared. "No. I can't. I refuse to answer that question. Better yet, I don't know. Just drop it already, I'm paying attention, okay?"

"Well, look in your text on page eighty-three for your answer and pay better attention next time," Godric rebuked. When Harry just sat there, not bothering to look up the answer, the Founder added, "As much as this pains me to do, I shall take ten points from Gryffindor House, Harry, for your lack of attentiveness and for your disrespect." Godric returned to his lecture, which had just finished up werewolves and were just moving on to Dementors. Harry wasn't listening to the words. Memories of Sirius and the Patronus charm passed before his vision. The events of his third year hit him hard, and he had to bite back a sob at the family he'd gained that year only to lose it in the ones following. First, he lost Sirius to the Veil, and then Remus in some gruesome battle against Voldemort, although the memories surrounding Remus' demise were still fuzzy. Perhaps they were from the same battle that had somehow landed him a thousand years in the past.

"Can anyone tell me the best way to combat a Dementor?" Godric said, breaking into Harry's thoughts once more.

"Expecto Patronum," Harry murmured. All eyes turned to watch him carefully. "The best way to ward off a Dementor is to summon a Patronus."

Godric nodded. "Very good, Harry, and pray tell, where did you learn this? It is not very well-known."

"From my Defense Against the Dark Arts professor in my Third Year," Harry replied casually. "There were Dementors at the school and they affected me worse than the others, so I asked…I asked my professor for extra help."

"He must have been some professor, to teach a Patronus Charm to a boy of only thirteen years."

Harry offered a pained smile. "Yes, he was a great teacher, and a great friend, too." Godric let the matter drop for the moment, for which the younger wizard was grateful. However, when class ended for lunch, he kept a reluctant Harry back so he could speak with the boy more privately.

"Are you alright, Harry? You have been very distracted today in all of the lessons," Godric observed. "Would you like to talk about it?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm fine, but thank you anyways." He paused and shifted his wait uncomfortably. "Well, if that's all, Professor, I would like to go eat—"

"Tell me a little bit more about your Third Year DADA professor."

Harry sighed deeply. "His name's Remus Lupin. He went to Hogwarts with my parents and godfather—they were all close friends—and he returned to teach my generation for a year before resigning."

"Why did he resign?" Harry shifted uneasily. "Harry?"

"He attacked Hermione and me because he forgot to take his potion before going after the Azkaban fugitive—my godfather—Sirius Black and myself. I'd originally gone to get revenge on him for allegedly betraying and murdering my parents, but it turned out he was innocent." Harry shrugged. "I didn't blame him at all—I wanted him to stay because he and Sirius were the only family I'd ever had—but he did not wish to risk infecting any of the students with lycanthropy."

"If you are acquainted with a werewolf, why could you not answer my question earlier?"

"Because he's dead, okay! I don't want to think about Remus and Sirius, or my parents or Cedric Diggory, all of who died because of me, because I came into existence and knew them! It hurts too much to think of them! I don't want to remember what they went through for my sake! Please don't ask me to remember! It's too painful, Godric!" Harry cried. Tears were flowing freely down his cheeks and his green eyes were filled with pain. "I've always worked so hard to be the perfect little Gryffindor Golden Boy that everyone loves so much! And look where it got me!

"I've lost everyone I loved, and I never even told him! I never told Sirius that he was a good godfather, or that I loved him, or that I couldn't wait for him to be acquitted so that we could live together like a family! I never told Remus, either, I never forgave him for not saving Sirius—he blames himself for it almost as much as me! I never told him that it didn't matter to me that he was a werewolf, and that I accepted him for _who_ he was and not_ what_ he was! I never spoke up because I was afraid of being hated by the world that had made me their _savior_! I was too afraid to tell Dumbledore that I wanted to be in Slytherin, and it's killing me! I hate this House! I hate it so much! I wish I had let the Hat put me in Salazar's House! At least _he_ understands me!"

Godric looked horrified by Harry's state of hysteria. "Harry, calm down, it'll be all right," he tried to console the frantic boy.

"How can it be all right!" Harry sobbed. "It can never be all right again! I can never tell them the truth, and now I have to keep that knowledge with me along with the memories of their demises. I've been hiding my pain deep inside for too long. I can't keep pretending that it never happened, no matter how much I want to."

"Harry—"

"I want to go home," Harry said. "I want a home to go to. I've never had a home. Hogwarts, perhaps, but there was always something not quite right about my time there. Perhaps I could have found a home in Salazar's House. He seems to understand me much better than anyone else."

"But you can't go home. We don't have a clue how to send you back to your own time," Godric objected. "And why not stay here a while longer? Think of it as a vacation from being a savior. Live a little. Free time, vacation, a special trip to the past, meeting the Founders of Hogwarts—it's not like one of mine to turn down an opportunity like that," he pointed out. Harry smiled meekly.

"And that's my point—maybe I'm not one of yours." With that, he bowed, a custom that had disappeared by his own era—and what a shame that was, because Harry found the gesture very gallant and noble—and he took his leave.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or its characters. I am merely using them to entertain myself because I am bored and don't feel like doing my massive amounts of compiling homework. **

**Warnings: Mild slash (Salazar Slytherin/Harry Potter), OOCness (it's fanfiction, if you want In Character stuff, read the books), spoilers through OotP, etc.**

**A/n: Thank you everyone who reviewed! I really appreciate it! **

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It was Christmas holiday and Harry had spent every spare moment of time in the school library, reading through books he'd never dreamed existed. Apparently, in the time of the Founders, there was no restricted section, and Harry was going to take full advantage of it. He had given up on finding a way home months ago. Time travel was supposed to be impossible on such a large scale. No one could help him, and he'd spoken to quite a few great witches and wizards about the possibility. He was careful to pose the question as hypothetical; it would not due for the entire world to know he was from the future. No, that would not be good at all.

"You spend quite a bit of time in here for a student of Gryffindor," a soft feminine voice said from behind him. Harry turned and rose to bow respectfully.

"Good evening, Lady Ravenclaw," he said. He forced himself not to call the Founder 'Professor', because she really didn't teach him anything. It was unusual for a student to call the Head of another House 'Professor'. He'd found that out the hard way early on and corrected himself immediately.

"What is it you seek so fervently?" she inquired, setting her own stack of books down and taking a seat across from where he was still standing. Harry followed suit and sat wordlessly. "Lords Slytherin and Gryffindor seem quite fond of you. I understand Godric's attitude, for it is natural to favor one's own House, but Lord Slytherin has no reason to treat you remarkably well. And yet he does. And he is known not to show favoritism to anyone outside his own group of pupils. Perhaps he feels you were incorrectly sorted?"

Harry answered carefully, "I was told that I would do well in Slytherin House, and I think I understand the reasons behind that statement now."

Rowena gave Harry a strange look that he couldn't identify. "But what's so special about you that you attract two completely opposite people to you? There's nothing too extraordinary as far as I can see."

"I dunno. Maybe you're asking the wrong person. If you want to know why Salazar Slytherin does something, ask him. He's a mystery even to me," Harry said guardedly.

"But he won't talk to me!" Rowena exclaimed fiercely. "Not like he talks to you! He opens up around you and I don't understand it! I have been trying to get him to speak openly with me for years with little success, and then you come in and have him wrapped around your little finger in the twinkling of an eye! Why does he care about you so much!" Harry realized belatedly that the emotion he'd seen flash in Rowena Ravenclaw's eyes was jealousy, and it was directed at him along with anger and desperation and confusion.

He smiled as disarmingly as possible, and it came from the bottom of his heart. She had nothing to fear from him, especially not if she truly cared about Salazar Slytherin half as much as he thought she did. "I'm sure Salazar cares very much for you, Lady Ravenclaw. He always mentions to me how he admires your cleverness and strength. He has a deep respect and adoration for you. Just because you can't see it doesn't mean it isn't there. I know that there is a small corner of his carefully guarded heart that is kept just for you, because you care so much about him and have put so much effort into moving him. He appreciates your feelings even if he doesn't return them. He's probably never spoken to you about it because he doesn't want to hurt you. He's sensitive to things like that, and he tries to hide from it behind that mask of his so that others, like you, won't be hurt because of him."

Rowena opened her mouth, words forming on her lips, but no sound came out. She had a pained look of acceptance on her face and Harry knew she was fighting back tears. He knew from personal experience what that look meant. He himself had worn it many times throughout his difficult journey in life, after losing friends—Fred, George, Seamus, Colin—and family—Sirius, Remus, his parents, Dumbledore—and after losing a chance to be with someone he cared about, and after his innocence about the world was stolen from him by harsh reality…yes, Harry Potter had most definitely had his share of emotional turmoil. He knew the look of severe loss very well.

"I—" she choked on her words and her lip quivered. "I'm sorry, Harry." Tears slowly and silently slid down her pale cheeks and she bit her lip to stifle the whimpers that never came. Her tears remained silent and carefully controlled. Harry wasn't like her; she was a strong and composed crier. "I have misjudged you. Please forgive me for interrogating you. I had no right—"

Harry offered a small smile and said, "I'm glad you did. It makes me happy that you cared enough to question me and try to protect him from potential heartache. Thank you, Lady Ravenclaw." He reached out, took her trembling hand in his, and brought it gently to his lips, placing a chaste kiss on the soft flesh in a subtle show of valiance and gentility that he'd acquired after long hours in Salazar's commanding presence. He stood, bowed low at the waist, and departed, leaving the books he'd been examining forgotten on the table.

Rowena watched him go with a dazed expression. What a gentleman! He sure knew how to make someone feel special. Yes, she knew he would be good for Salazar and would treat him as well as he deserved, which was much more than others had given him before Harry.

Glancing down at the rather large pile of books the boy had forgotten, Rowena noticed that they had two things in common: they were all about time travel, and they were all of the darkest nature.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or its characters. I am merely using them to entertain myself because I am bored and don't feel like doing my massive amounts of compiling homework. **

**Warnings: Mild slash (Salazar Slytherin/Harry Potter), OOCness (it's fanfiction, if you want In Character stuff, read the books), spoilers through OotP, etc.**

**A/n: Many thanks to my reviewers!

* * *

**

"Hey, look who's decided to grace us with his charming presence," Godric said teasingly. Harry was standing slouched in the doorway with his clothes disheveled and a most unpleasant look on his face.

"I. Hate. Mornings."

"I can tell," the Founder replied lightly, putting some food on an empty plate for Harry, who sat down and watched half-heartedly. He wasn't really interested in food. Ignoring Harry's lack of vitality, Godric added, "Any minute now, Salazar will make his way in here and put your pathetic entrance to shame. I rarely see him up before noon on holidays, and if he does rise at a reasonable morning hour—and I've good reason to think he will—he is a terror. He's rude and always has a biting, hurtful remark ready to offer those around him."

"Good for him," Harry muttered, trying to give off an unapproachable air. He was not successful; Godric couldn't take the hint.

"Oh, you don't believe me, do you? Well, I'll prove to you I am right in a few short moments—look, see, here he comes now! The man of the moment!"

"Stop running your mouth Godric. It is too early for you to be pestering other people," Salazar growled. He took a seat next to Harry. It was rather nice having the Great Hall almost to yourself, which only happened during holidays when most students were gone.

"Good morning, Lord Slytherin," Rowena said softly, an uncertain yet hopeful look in her eyes. Salazar glared and said nothing. He held his head up high and ate with pureblood prestige. Harry frowned at this.

"Don't be rude, Lady Ravenclaw just said good morning," the boy-who-lived rebuked softly. Salazar sighed and muttered a quick "good morning" before returning to his meal. "You're not a nice person before noon," he observed.

"Told you," Godric exclaimed.

Harry shrugged. "I'm not one to talk. I'm just as bad."

Looking from Harry to Salazar and back, Godric smirked mischievously. They were a lot alike. Both had irritated green eyes and dark hair—Harry's messy and Salazar's impeccable. Both hated mornings and preferred comfortable silence to conversation. "Maybe you're related," he suggested. "Salazar, maybe Harry's your great-great-great-great-great-great—"

"No, definitely not. That lot would fall to Tom Riddle, aka the Dark Lord, bka Voldemort. Yeah, lucky me, I know."

"You mean he's a real heir, not just a partial heir? I thought you said he was a halfblood."

Harry frowned. "Yes, his father was a muggle." He paused uncomfortably, seeing where this conversation was going. "My mother was muggleborn, so that makes me halfblood, too," he reminded the Founder.

"No, you're a first generation pureblood," Godric corrected.

"What difference does it make?" Harry said edgily. Salazar shot him a warning look telling him he would not like the answer he was about to receive.

"It makes all the difference in the world! Who wants dirty blood tainting this marvelous school? I certainly don't, and I doubt the other Founders do either—" He received two affirming nods from Helga and Rowena and a normal glare from Salazar "It brings the secret of our world closer to exposure and therefore extinction! It would be a nightmare if the muggle population found out about us! And mudbloods are not as capable with a wand as we purebloods are."

Harry glared and said dangerously, "I will remind you, sir, that my mother was a _mudblood_. One of my dearest friends is also a _mudblood_. It is not to your benefit to keep referring to those with less than pure wizarding blood with such disdain."

"Those are _his_ ideals, Harry, and you did ask him about it," Salazar reminded him softly.

Harry shot him a glare. "But he has absolutely no respect for these people—and they _are_ people, beings with a heart and mind and soul! They can love and hate and feel pain! They bleed when you pierce their flesh and cry when you pierce their hearts! They deserve to be treated better than that!" With that, Harry stood and fled the scene he'd just caused. Godric looked perplexed.

"What did I say to get him so riled up?"

Salazar did not answer. Instead, he rose gracefully, sending Godric a silencing look that promised pain if he continued speaking, and followed the path Harry'd just walked out of the Great Hall. After searching for the boy for what seemed like an eternity—Gryffindor Tower, Quidditch Pitch, Astronomy Tower, empty classrooms, and the Room of Requirements all visited with little success during his hunt—he suddenly felt an alarm go off in his head. Quickly, he changed directions and strode purposefully toward the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. Once there, Salazar saw the boy had thrown himself down across a large statue and was sobbing loudly. The sound shook the older wizard to his core and he was overcome with compassion for the young man.

As he crept over to the boy, a portrait opened its mouth to greet him, but he silenced it with a shake of his head. Sitting down next to the younger wizard, Salazar touched his back gently and spoke quiet words of comfort into his ear. Harry tensed at the initial contact but soon let himself find reassurance in the Founder's strong presence.

"Why would he say something so hurtful?" Harry murmured, turning into Salazar's open arms and burying his face in his robes.

Salazar sighed. "Godric Gryffindor is young and naïve. He does not know what he is saying. He hasn't had the extra years of suffering that I've had. He most certainly did not mean to hurt you, Harry."

Harry frowned in confusion and replied, "He's the same age as you."

Salazar fought a smile. Leave it to Harry to focus on such an insignificant detail. "Actually, he is three years my junior, but I was referring to his mind. He has been coddled all his life and knows very little about the harsh reality outside the walls of Hogwarts and his childhood home."

"Isn't that the same with most purebloods?"

"Most," Salazar agreed. His eyes darkened. "But not all." Harry frowned and opened his mouth to inquire further, but Salazar continued before he had a chance, "Helga Hufflepuff, for example, knows better than anyone how miserable life as a pureblood can be."

"But Lady Hufflepuff is always so happy and full of life!" Harry objected. He didn't want to think that something awful had happened to that wonderful woman. She of all people should have the chance to increase her own happiness as well as lift the spirits of those around her.

"She is happy. Now, that is. It was not always so—she's had a very harsh life, understand, and she had to work hard to get to where she is now." Salazar shook his head sadly. "She was raised to be the perfect little wife to a pureblooded bigot. She always put on a smile face, because she didn't want anyone to see how unhappy she was. She never spoke back to her father in all her life. Not until she was fifteen and put her fist down and refused to marry her fiancée. She was a romantic, see, and always dreamed of marrying for love. In a fit of rage, her father gave her the beating of her life, disowned her, and left her out on the cold winter streets of Knockturn Alley to die.

However, instead of wallowing in self-pity and sorrows of the past, Helga picked herself back up and found herself a job working at a muggle pub to survive; the wizarding world saw her as a disgrace and refused to hire her—not that women are able to get many jobs in our world and in this age, mind you. She scrubbed floors by hand, washed dishes, waited tables, polished shoes, cleaned linens, and many other things that would usually be too far beneath a pureblood witch—it was humiliating, but she always pulled through her tough times with a smile."

"How did she end up here at Hogwarts?"

"A young wizard happened by her one day and noticed two things: her pureblood magic and her ever-present smile. He took her under his wing and nurtured her magic, teaching her every spell he knew and continuing the education that had been taken away from her with her first home and family. After that, it's all as you could imagine. I was an acquaintance of Helga's fiancée who admired her courage.

Rowena was an idealistic young professor who wanted to found a school and sought us out individually. At first, only the other three were in favor of building a school, but after great coercion from Godric, who is has been a close acquaintance of mine since we were very young, I found myself slowly growing attached to the idea and soon joined them in their dream, and together we four founded Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Quite the _fairy tale_, isn't it?"

"Wow…I guess I'm not the only one who's had a rough life," Harry muttered sadly.

"Even the wealthiest and seemingly happiest of people have growing pains and heartache, Harry."

"I doubt Malfoy's too uncomfortable right now," Harry said bitterly, but immediately regretted his words as an image of Draco Malfoy at the end of fifth year passed through his mind. Malfoy had been very upset, promising revenge for his imprisoned father.

Harry then wondered, "How is it possible for someone to so adamantly desire your friendship one moment, and in the next despise you so completely?" Salazar did not reply; no answer was necessary. "Malfoy's father supported his hatred towards me. What would the man have said if his son had befriended me instead—if I hadn't rejected Draco Malfoy's friendship on the train in our first year? Surely, he wouldn't have approved of our friendship! So why would Draco, who hangs on his father's every word, try to befriend the enemy when he was probably told to stay as far away from me as possible?"

"That is a very common struggle among purebloods—follow in the footsteps of your father and his father, or choose your own path in life. It is probably harder for Mr. Malfoy to face his father's disproval than his fist. He'd probably prefer physical blows to emotional ones. Bruises can be shown to the world, but scarred hearts and minds can be hidden behind false smiles.

"Sometimes a person needs a little push in the right direction. This Draco Malfoy character unwisely chose you for that push, and he was shoved back into the darkness of his father's shadow."

"But I didn't know anything back then! I barely even knew I was a wizard! I didn't understand the difference between the Houses and how unimportant they really were!"

"And that is probably why he chose you. Despite his apparent haughtiness, he hoped that you would judge him fairly, without the weight of his surname swaying you."

"He would have dragged me down with him!"

"No, Harry, you would have pulled him up, just as I have seen you do with many of my students this year. Slytherin House would have been good for you, but you also would have been good for Slytherin House." At Harry's dubious look, the Founder added, "You've been good for me." Harry turned a deep red and looked down at the floor in embarrassment. Salazar's eyes grew sad for a brief moment before they hardened into their usual aloof indifference. "**_You should get some rest,"_** he hissed softly in Parseltongue. "**_Classes resume in a few days. You will need your strength."_**

Harry didn't acknowledge that statement. "It wouldn't be so bad to have a basilisk down here—provided it isn't trying to kill me." He looked over at Salazar with a faint smile on his lips. "And basilisks are legal in this time, right?"

"Barely," the Founder replied with a languid draw to his tone.

"Can I have one?" Salazar was very surprised, to say the least, at Harry's blatant request. "Please?"

"It is not my place to grant that request, Harry. You would need to ask your Head of House for special permission, seeing as serpents of any sort have been banned from the list of acceptable familiars." Harry nodded reluctantly, and Salazar could tell that the boy would rather not have a basilisk than ask Godric for one.


	6. Chapter 6

A/n: Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I did read each review, although I am sadly too lazy and simple-minded to actually take time to reply. I barely leave myself enough time to write the fanfic let alone respond to reviews. My therapist says I need to learn better time management, because as I am now I waste most of it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. J. K. Rowling does. I'm not her. Now I'm going to disappear into a shadowy corner and cry about it.

* * *

Harry walked through the ancient version of Hogsmeade with a forlorn expression and a heavy heart. It was Christmas Eve. His friends were a thousand years away. Voldemort was causing turmoil throughout the wizarding world. Worst of all, Harry found himself completely alone again. Why was it that he always had to be alone on important days meant to share with loved ones? His birthday, Mothers Day, Fathers Day, and now Christmas… Harry sighed and shook his head. Such thoughts were only depressing him even more. 

He turned a corner and saw a pet shop. It was in the same place as in his time, but it had a different name. Stepping inside the store, Harry looked around the small building at the strange creatures locked in their cages ready to take home as a Christmas present.

"**_Oh, no…a human…a customer…I hope he doesn't come this way…We've lost too many as it is…"_**

Harry's eyes turned to the general direction of the voice. He was quite curious to know what kind of person would not want a customer to make a purchase in their store. It was part of their job to make a sale and profit, right? What businessman would be afraid of business?

His question was answered when he found himself staring down at a small serpent that was writhing in what seemed like pain.

"**_I'm sick. You don't want a diseased pet. Find someone else,"_** it hissed at him.

Harry smirked and hissed back, "**_If you were as sick as you pretend to be, I doubt you would be able to move so much, little one."_** He smiled disarmingly and knelt down so that he was eye level with the shocked creature. "**_I'm Harry, by the way. What is your name?"_**

"**_I have no name that a human could pronounce, snake speaker,"_** it told him guardedly. It then let out another series of hisses that Harry recognized was a name, but it made no sense to him beyond that. "**_How is it you can speak my language?"_**

"A wizard sent a curse at me and instead of killing me as it should have, it backfired at him and marked me as his equal when I was an infant. I inherited this ability from him."

The snake looked pensive. "**_There is only one bloodline I know of that can speak the language of snakes. It must have been a Slytherin." _**Harry nodded in agreement, staring dazedly into the serpent's crimson eyes. After several minutes of tense silence in which the snake seemed to be measuring him up, it nodded imperceptibly to itself and said, "**_I have decided, human. You shall be my master. No other human has ever been courageous enough to look me in the eyes before."_**

Harry was flattered by the offer, but he didn't have much money. "**_But you must be very expensive. I cannot afford a familiar as beautiful as you."_**

The snake hissed in amusement and replied, "**_Open the cage, young human. I shall take care of the rest."_** Harry hesitantly obeyed, wondering how a snake was going to convince a shopkeeper to do anything at all, let alone haggle with him. The snake slithered out and for the first time, Harry was able to gauge its size. It was about three and a half feet long. He watched as it made its way to the back of the shop. There was a loud shout and the sound of several parcels falling to the floor. Harry slowly stepped toward the racket and saw a middle-aged man huddled in a corner with both his hands over his eyes. He was murmuring quietly to himself about how he'd known it was too dangerous to keep around the store and that he was going to die.

"**_Don't kill him,"_** Harry ordered. The snake turned to look at him, taken aback by the command. To Harry, it was a perfectly reasonable request, but to the snake it obviously was not. "**_I have seen enough death and bloodshed to last me ten lifetimes. I will not take a familiar who kills without reason." _**After a short pause, the snake nodded and slithered over to him and up around his body until it was resting on his shoulders.

"Um, excuse me," Harry said uncomfortably, knowing he'd nearly given the man a heart attack with his new friend. "How much is this snake? I'd like to buy it."

After registering the words, the man replied, "N-Nothing! Just take it and get out of here! Get that thing away from me!" Harry just shrugged and exited the building, leaving a few galleons next to the register on the way out.

"You are too kind, young master," the snake hissed next to his ear. 

"**_You're male, right? I think I will name you Ares. You seem to possess an unnaturally warlike spirit,"_** he said teasingly, though his new companion took him seriously.

"**_I approve, master. If you wish to call me Ares, I accept the human name."_** Harry laughed heartily and turned into a bookstore in hopes of finding something to help him get home. Even though he knew it was a hopeless cause, Harry refused to give up, especially when all of his friends were fighting so hard in the future to protect the world from Voldemort. How could he just sit around and enjoy life with the Founders when his friends were dying one by one in a war? "**_What are you searching for, master?"_**

"**_A way home," _**Harry mumbled as he scanned a shelf near the back of the store. "**_I am from the future. I don't remember what happened beyond the fact that it was in the middle of a huge battle, but I somehow ended up here."_**

"**_Will I be returning with you?"_** Ares inquired, staring at the human writing blankly; it was gibberish to the snake but nonetheless was fascinating in its simplicity and primitive appearance.

Harry sighed. "**_I would like that, Ares, but I'm not sure if there is a way to return at all, let alone with a familiar."_** There might not be a way home. That thought brought tears to his eyes and he felt the small serpent tighten its hold on him slightly.

"**_Nonsense!_**" Ares replied, "**_All spells can be undone! It is merely a matter of finding its counter."_** Harry nodded, offered a small smile, and tried to calm himself down. It would not do to make a scene in a public place with a snake wrapped around his shoulders. He'd already received more than his fair share of attention on the streets, so much so that he'd made Ares hide in his robes until they were someplace less crowded.

* * *

"Harry, what in Merlin's name is that!" Godric exclaimed, pointing exaggeratedly at the teen's shoulder. 

"This is Ares. He's my new familiar." Harry stroked Ares' scales as the snake slithered across his hands, enjoying the touch. "He's promised not to hurt anyone, so I see no reason why you wouldn't allow it," he added. Godric immediately turned to Salazar with this new information.

"You knew," he accused. "Why would you let him get a serpent?"

Salazar shook his head, "I didn't know anything, Godric. He most likely picked the snake up on his excursion to Hogsmeade this afternoon."

Harry nodded in confirmation. "Yes, I saw him in a pet shop and decided that he was much more important than a rule that is incomprehensibly ridiculous and grounded in old superstition." He smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry for not asking first," he said to Salazar.

Salazar gave him a reassuring smile. "It's quite all right… this time. Next time, be sure to acquire the proper permission from your Head of House." Harry nodded and then bowed obediently. Turning to Godric, the Founder added, "I will take responsibility for this if things get out of hand."

"**_What are they saying, young master?"_** Ares hissed softly.

"Godric is being rude and saying I cannot keep you, and Salazar is offering to take responsibility for any trouble we get into."

Salazar, who had been eavesdropping on their conversation, chuckled quietly. "**_I say that hoping I will have no need to take the blame for any unnecessary stunts."_**

Harry grinned. "**_Of course, Professor, I wouldn't dream of causing mischief. Not me! I'm a good little boy." _**Salazar snorted in disbelief. "**_I am! You think I've been bad this year, you should be grateful you didn't know me in the past—or rather, the future! My friends and I used to cause so much trouble that each year we were threatened with expulsion at least once!"_**

Ares cut in, "**_Your professor is a snake speaker. He is a Slytherin?"_**

Salazar's green eyes darkened so that they were almost black. "**_Yes, unfortunately, although I'd prefer not to be reminded of it, thank you."_** Harry opened his mouth to inquire as to the reason, but Ares hissed sharply in warning. Looking again at Salazar's eyes, Harry realized it was not a subject the man was willing to discuss. Salazar, sensing Harry's uneasiness, said, "What kind of snake is Ares, Harry?" Harry shrugged and translated the question for Ares, who wondered why Salazar had even bothered with human tongue.

Harry paled and answered, "He's a basilisk." Of course, Salazar had already heard Ares' reply, but the full implications of the words didn't hit until he'd heard them come from Harry's own mouth. "Could he be the one I killed in my second year?"

Salazar nodded slowly. "That is very possible, Harry. Where else could we keep a basilisk than in the Chamber of Secrets…and they live for such a long time…"

"I don't care. I'm not getting rid of him. Not right now, anyways. Godric will just have to wait a thousand years. I've already gotten attached."

"But would you leave him here, knowing what terrible fate will someday befall him?" Salazar asked gently. Harry bit his lip uncertainly.

"I… he attacked me first… he should have known it was me… I didn't know him yet… and he really should have known better… so isn't it his own fault? He… he could have… I don't know… he could have killed Voldemort instead… right?"

"A thousand years is a long time to be alone, Harry," the older wizard reminded him. "Is that fair to Ares?"

"I'm not getting rid of him! He's not just some animal that can be put down when you're sick of him! He's a basilisk and he's my friend!"

"A friend you've had only for a day—"

"And trust with my life!" Harry snapped, growing defensive. Ares didn't understand the words being exchanged but hissed at Salazar for making his master upset. "I've only known you for a few months, and I trust you as well. Call me foolish if you like, but I'd prefer to have relationships and be hurt than always wonder what could have been."

"Harry, I never asked for your trust, and I would rather you take it back. I am not a trustworthy person. I will abuse whatever power you give me; that I can promise you. It is part of who I am. It's in my blood."

"And it is in my blood to trust traitors," Harry replied. Turning to Ares, he hissed, "**_I won't let them take you away, Ares. You will stay with me forever… won't you?"_**

"**_Of course, young master."_**

"**_You'll wait for me, right? Even for a thousand years?"_**

"**_Yes, young master, I will wait,"_** Ares hissed with a hint of annoyance at having to repeat himself. Harry grinned widely at the serpent and stroked its scales tenderly.

"**_Thank you. I just hope we don't end up killing each other when next we meet."_** Ares looked up at Harry incredulously. "**_Well, a thousand years is a long time to wait, Ares, and there will be others who speak your tongue. Please do not be deceived by another Parseltongue. Please don't turn against me."_**

"**_I would never commit such a crime against honor and duty, young master. You rescued me from my cage and have offered me care and shelter. I am your faithful servant."_**

"Good, then you won't obey Tom Riddle," Harry murmured in English, ignoring the curious looks he received from Salazar and Ares, the latter of which did not understand the statement while the former had understood too well.

* * *

"Salazar Slytherin, how could you allow him to keep a basilisk!" Godric exclaimed once Harry had left the room that evening. 

Salazar sighed. "I see no reason why not, Godric. Harry is an exceptional student and I think he deserves some semblance of friendship in this time. He has no human friends, but he seems pleased enough with the serpent." The Parselmouth grew silent for a moment before adding, "What is this really about, Godric? I know it's not about the snake."

There was a tense pause. "Why didn't you tell me he was a Parselmouth?" The question was very soft, and Salazar almost missed it.

"There was no reason for you to know, and if Harry had wanted you informed, he would have gone to you directly."

Godric glared. "And since when have you respected people's wishes? This isn't like you, Salazar. You never make exceptions for anyone about anything. I have seldom seen you bestow favoritism on a single person. You would have never permitted a dangerous creature like a basilisk within the school before Harry came along. I have to wonder if you realize just how much special attention you shower the boy with. I, at least, have my reasons, being as he is _my_ student.

"Why are you treating him like he means something to you? He shouldn't. He can't, Salazar. I see the way you look at him—that sad, wistful look. Why do you do this to yourself? Not only is he clueless to your feelings, he is a student—my student—and a child, Salazar, _a child_. Do you understand what I'm saying? You don't, do you?"

Salazar sighed again, this time much deeper. "It is not that I don't understand, Godric. It's that knowing such truths changes nothing. I cannot help what I feel. It by no means suggests that I would ever act on those feelings, but I have them nonetheless." Godric was staring at him in wary pity. "I don't regret it, Godric. I am grateful I was able to meet young Harry Potter. I would not wish for him to return my feelings—I'm not quite sure what I'd do if he did."

"Run for the hills and die an old hermit," Godric quipped, and Salazar chuckled half-heartedly. "Salazar Slytherin, you are my friend—one of my best friends, actually. I hate watching you hurt yourself, but I will not interfere. It is, after all, your business what you feel and for whom you feel it. Heaven forbid I might actually attempt to tamper with the volatile force that is your heart."

"I resent that."

"You're scary when people try to help you. It's true and don't you dare deny it!"

Salazar rolled his eyes. "Regardless, we should continue the search for a way to get Harry home with just as much fervor as ever.

Godric nodded. "Of course. The boy cannot stay here. He must return to his own time. You're the one who needs to remember that."

Salazar watched his friend depart. "I'm the one who needs to remember?" He laughed dryly. "How can I forget? It hangs over my head each day like a dark storm cloud boding utter devastation."

* * *

Rowena scurried down the corridor to Godric's classroom, a large piece of parchment clutched tightly in her pale hands. She'd finally found it. After months of searching, she'd finally found a way that might send young Harry to his own time. 

As she neared the door, she paused with her hand hovering over the doorknob. There were loud voices resonating from within. Pressing her ear to the wooden door, she listened intently.

"Not only is Harry clueless to your feelings, he is a student—my student—and a child, Salazar, _a child_. Do you understand what I'm saying? You don't, do you?" Rowena covered her mouth to stifle a gasp. Salazar had feelings for Harry? She'd known that Harry was fond of the Slytherin Founder, but for Salazar to return those feelings was preposterous! He would know better than to get involved with a student!

"...I am by no means suggesting that I would ever act on those feelings, but I have them nonetheless." Rowena fought back her cry of shock and listened to the rest of the conversation, careful to slip into the shadows as Godric made his exit.

The new piece of information astounded her. Salazar Slytherin, the apparently cold, indifferent, distant Salazar Slytherin, had feelings for Harry Potter, the boy who'd only weeks ago expressed his admiration for Salazar himself. How curious... Rowena glanced down at the slip of parchment and smiled faintly before slipping it into her pocket and departing for her bedroom. A little longer wouldn't hurt anyone.


End file.
